The classroom buzzed with excitement as children entered, each carrying a shiny, wrapped gift. Secret Santa day had finally arrived! Everyone was eager to discover what surprises awaited them.
Some kids whispered to each other, imagining who would get the best gift. Others fidgeted nervously, hoping their Santas had chosen them.
But in one quiet corner of the room, Bobby sat clutching a plain envelope. His eyes were watery, and his small hands trembled. Unlike the other kids, he didn’t have a big, sparkling gift to show off.
Mrs. Torres, their gentle and kind teacher, clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “So, children,” she said with a warm smile, “are we all ready?”
“Yes, Mrs. Torres!” the room erupted in squeaky voices.
“Alright, then,” she continued, “let’s get started! Who wants to go first?”
“Me! Me!” the children shouted, waving their hands frantically. The excitement was loud and contagious. But Mrs. Torres’ eyes fell on Bobby, sitting quietly, staring at his envelope.
After a thoughtful pause, she said softly, “Well, I think Bobby can go first. Bobby, are you ready, sweetheart?”
Bobby shook his head slightly, unable to lift his eyes. Mrs. Torres knelt beside him. “Are you okay, Bobby? You got one of your classmates’ names, didn’t you?”
Bobby swallowed hard. “Yes… I got Sally. But I… I don’t have a gift for her… just a letter.”
Mrs. Torres’ face softened. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine! I’m sure Sally will understand. Why don’t you give her your letter?”
Taking a deep breath, Bobby stood and walked slowly to Sally’s desk. He extended the envelope, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Sally… I—I don’t have a gift, but I wrote you a letter.”
Sally’s face twisted in disgust. “You wrote… what? You didn’t even get me a gift? It’s Secret Santa, Bobby!”
“I… I’m sorry,” Bobby whispered. “I just… I couldn’t buy one.”
“I HATE YOU!” Sally shouted, her voice echoing in the classroom. “I got your name! My daddy bought you a gift, and you didn’t get me anything?”
“I got you a letter,” Bobby said softly. “I made it myself! I drew Santa and reindeer because… I know you love reindeer.”
“Eww!” Sally cried, throwing up her hands. “That’s awful! So poor! I don’t want it, and I’m not giving you your gift either! Everyone, look! Bobby is so poor, he couldn’t even buy me a gift!”
Mrs. Torres stepped in quickly. “Sally, honey, that’s not nice! You can choose not to accept Bobby’s letter, but you shouldn’t be mean to him. Say sorry.”
“NO!” Sally screamed. “He ruined my day! If he’s poor, that’s not my problem! He can go beg on the streets!”
Bobby slumped back in his seat, tears rolling down his cheeks. The classroom went silent, the earlier excitement replaced by an uncomfortable tension. Mrs. Torres asked the other children to continue the game, while she stayed behind to tidy the room.
When the last child left, Mrs. Torres noticed the envelope on Bobby’s desk. She picked it up and read:
“Dear Santa… My wish,” it began.
Curiosity turned to concern as she read through the letter. By the end, her eyes were wet with tears. She dashed out, hoping to find Bobby, but he was already gone. Instead, she found Sally and called her over.
“Sally, would you mind coming here for a moment?” Mrs. Torres said gently.
“I don’t want to talk about Bobby!” the girl frowned.
“I think you should read what Bobby wrote for you. It might make you understand,” Mrs. Torres encouraged.
Reluctantly, Sally took the letter. As she read, her face changed from irritation to shock, and then to sadness. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The letter read:
*”I am sorry, Sally. I am the worst Santa ever! You are a nice girl, and I feel very bad that I cannot get you a gift. My mommy is very sick. She has a bad heart and cannot walk. She uses Grampa’s old wheelchair.
I had saved money for your gift in my piggy bank, but I couldn’t spend it. I need to give that money to Mommy for her medicine and care. When she is better, I will ask her to get you a reindeer toy. I know you love reindeer. I drew one for you at the back.
I wish you and your mommy always stay happy. I hope you never see your mommy sad. I hope she loves you. That’s my wish to Santa for you! I hope the real Santa who loves all children makes all your dreams come true.
— Bobby”*
Sally’s voice cracked. “His mommy is sick, Mrs. Torres? I miss my mommy… she went to the angels when I was a baby!”
“Yes, honey. She is sick,” Mrs. Torres said softly.
Sally sniffled. “We need to help Bobby, Mrs. Torres… I was so mean to him. I was so, so bad…”
Mrs. Torres hugged her tightly. “No, Sally. You have a kind heart. You understand now, and that’s what matters. Tomorrow, apologize to him. He’ll be so happy.”
The next day, when Bobby came to class, Sally approached his desk. “I found your letter after class, and I’m sorry, Bobby. I don’t have a mommy, and I miss her so much. I just… I felt so bad for you.”
Bobby’s face lit up with a big smile. “It’s okay! Did you like the reindeer drawing?”
Sally laughed. “It was ugly! But I loved it! Thank you!”
That day, Sally and Bobby became fast friends. But the story didn’t end there. Later, Sally and her father visited Bobby’s home, carrying a bag of gifts and an envelope.
“Sally and I would be grateful if you could accept these,” said her father, Michael, to Bobby’s parents, Linda and Derek. “Sally told me Bobby’s mother needs heart surgery, and we want to help.”
Linda shook her head. “We can’t accept all this… it would be wrong.”
Derek added, “We appreciate it, but really… you don’t have to.”
Michael insisted gently. “Please. I know the pain of seeing a loved one suffer. My wife passed away when Sally was a baby. Let this be a gift from our hearts, and let’s think of it as what Santa would want.”
Finally, Bobby’s parents accepted the help. Linda’s surgery went well, and slowly, life started to brighten for their family.
Sally no longer felt empty about not having a mother. She had found a true friend in Bobby and a loving mother figure in Linda.
The lesson was clear: never judge someone before knowing their story. Sally had learned that being kind and compassionate could change lives, and that even a small act of love—a letter, a gift, or an apology—could bring hope and happiness.